


Priceless

by twinsarein



Category: DCU
Genre: First Date, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-30
Updated: 2010-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-09 16:17:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/89299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinsarein/pseuds/twinsarein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Superman participates in a charity bachelor auction. Bruce takes exception to not being told.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Priceless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rai_daydreamer](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=rai_daydreamer).



[ ](http://s947.photobucket.com/albums/ad318/twinsarein3/?action=view&current=Priceless-ctbn60.jpg)

[](http://s947.photobucket.com/albums/ad318/twinsarein3/?action=view&current=RU-Priceless.jpg)

Glasses clink around the room and there’s a soft chatter that’s silenced when the woman at the microphone clears her throat. Hidden behind a curtain, Clark readies himself for what’s coming next, even as he reminds himself why he’s doing this. 

After the devastating earthquake in Haiti, Superman flew in to help alleviate the suffering as much as possible, but even he could only do so much. This, though, was another way he could help, and even though he doesn’t like putting himself on display, he’s making an exception.  

“Our final Metropolis bachelor for the evening, our big mystery guest: Superman!” The announcer’s voice rings out over the assembled throng and Superman steps from behind the curtain and onto the runway.

The silence in the room is deafening and Clark takes that as proof that the organizers had kept their promise not to advertize his participation.  Then there’s a flurry of movement as people reach for their phones. Clark assumes that his presence here isn’t going to remain a secret for long.

He starts his way down the runway. He doesn’t strut as other men had. Not that he would have anyway, but at the request of the charity’s organizers, he rises up a few inches into the air and floats to the end, then lets himself sink back to the floor where he stands with his feet slightly spread and his arms akimbo.

He hears the sighs that go around the room, but the most notable one comes from the announcer. Clark shoots her a look, and that seems to remind her of her duty. She straightens up from her dreamy slouch over the podium and begins her spiel.

Not wanting to hear a rundown of all his attributes, or Superman’s anyway, Clark does his best to tune her out. Instead he looks out over the crowd. The bachelor and bachelorette auction of some of Metropolis’s leading citizens had really brought out a number Kansas’s wealthiest people.

He’s very happy to not see Lex Luthor among the crowd, or any of Superman’s other enemies.   Clark supposes an event like this is beneath Luthor’s dignity. Still, it had been one of his worries when he agreed to take part in this event. He’d also been afraid that the rest of the criminal element in the state would either try to hurt him, thereby putting the crowd at risk, or would try buying him and then attempt to use him for some nefarious purpose. It’s why his presence in the auction had been a secret, and also why his date is the only one that’s taking place that very night. He doesn’t want to give the criminal element time to put pressure on anyone who buys him.

“Let’s start the bidding at one million dollars. Who’ll start us off?”

Picking up on the starting bid, Clark does his best not to let his mouth fall open. That amount is ludicrous and much higher than the starting bids of the other participants. Who would want to spend that much for just one date? Clark has an increasingly difficult time keeping his mouth closed as the bid jumps to five million immediately and then quickly rises to fifteen. They start slowing down when they reach twenty-five. He reminds himself that it’s for charity; otherwise he’s not sure he could resist protesting the waste. As it is, he’s had a guarantee that one hundred percent of the proceeds will be going to help Haiti. A date with him isn’t worth that much money, but the Haitians are priceless.

The bidding finally peters out at thirty million dollars. It’s been a long process, as people made deals about pooling their money with other participants, some had tried phoning for more funds, and the general atmosphere of the room since Superman was announced had been as hysterical as this dignified set could get. 

However, the auctioneer is finally about to bring down the gavel, when the doors in the back are flung open and Bruce Wayne strides in. “Fifty million dollars.”

Even though he doesn’t yell, his voice rings out through the crowd and is easily heard. His bid silences the throng and causes the auctioneer to stammer, albeit briefly. “Any further bids? No? Then, going once, going twice, sold to Mr. Wayne for fifty million dollars.”

Clark’s mouth does drop open then, but luckily everyone is turning to look at Bruce, so it goes unobserved. Except for the man whose bid caused the reaction. His eyes never miss anything. Clark shivers at being pinned under the other man’s intense stare.

He’s been attracted to Bruce since their first meeting, even before he knew who was under the mask. In fact, he’d been attracted to him both as Batman and Bruce. That had been a confusing, thankfully brief, time in his life. He’d never been so relieved at the discovery that both people he was drawn to were, in fact, the same person.

He’d met Batman first, and had been instantly attracted to his air of command and his confidence. He’d even liked the broodiness, as it was the perfect foil to Clark’s own optimism. Not to mention, he could feel the power in the man’s gaze even through his cowl.

The attraction to Bruce hadn’t been instant, but before the event which they’d both attended was over, Clark had seen beyond the air of ennui Bruce hid under. He’d seen the pain, strength, and determination. He’d also seen the kindness and the gentleness he could exhibit. It all came through in the way he actually interacted with the people around him.  What he said might be, in turns, cutting, frivolous, vapid, or any other number of things, but his true self came through in his actions. 

It was there in the caught dress that he’d quickly untangled without the wearer being any the wiser. It was there in the look on his face when he saw an older couple sharing an embrace and exchanging a gentle kiss. It was there in the way he’d caught the server’s tray before the contents were sent to the floor, and it was there in wave of his hand and small smile at the server’s stammered apology. Clark isn’t sure how so many people miss it. Of course, Clark shouldn’t be too surprised since no one, except for Bruce, has ever seen through Clark’s disguises, either. 

As attracted as he is, though, he’s never dared to act on it. If Bruce didn’t feel the same way, then his time with the Justice League would become unbearable. He has to work with the man beneath the Bat costume for the foreseeable future, after all. It is becoming harder to hide how he’s feeling, however.

For a while now, whenever they both happen to be at The Daily Planet at the same time, Bruce has taken to asking him out. Clark is very aware that it’s all part of Bruce’s playboy act, and he makes sure to remind himself of that whenever Bruce issues an invitation. He plays along, but as tempting as it is, he knows he’s not supposed to say yes. He’s just a convenient cover, so Bruce can keep his devil-may-care attitude up, and yet not chance on stringing someone along that he has no interest in.

It’s become harder to resist the man’s invitations recently. Bruce has upped his campaign and Clark’s been reduced to a stammering mess several times in the last couple of months. Luckily, his response just strengthens the meek and mild persona he presents to the world. It’s embarrassing that Bruce can reduce him to such a state so easily. No one else ever has, not really.  Still, it would be worse if Bruce knew the reaction was genuine, and not a result of any playacting on Clark’s part.

The last time he’d seen Bruce had been the worst. The man had come into the bullpen and made a beeline for Clark’s desk, sitting his ass down on the corner. His position had pulled his pants over his crotch and Clark had a hard time keeping his eyes off the bulge thrown into tight relief that clearly showed him Bruce dresses to the left. Since Clark dresses to the right, that meant if they were to both stand and press against each other, their cocks would line right up.

As that thought had flitted through his mind, he’d started thinking of the phrase ‘cold shower’ in as many languages as he could in an effort to calm himself down.  It was finally starting to work when Bruce had leaned towards him with a look of intent in his eyes. Clark had felt as trapped by that gaze as a butterfly in a net, and just as helpless, as Bruce’s face had moved closer to his. Desperately trying to remember that Bruce was just playing a role, Clark had moved reflexively in his chair. 

Unfortunately, as caught in Bruce’s web of seduction as he’d been, he’d forgotten to check his strength. The back of his chair had broken off, and he’d tumbled out and landed on his ass. Bruce hadn’t laughed, thankfully, as they’d continued to stare at each other, but everyone else in the bullpen had. Clark had gotten himself off the floor before Bruce could extend a hand, and was brushing his clothes clean when Perry had come out of his office to see what all the hilarity was about. He’d caught sight of Bruce and that had ended that encounter.

Since that day, Clark has been of two minds about what had happened. On the one hand it would have been their first kiss, probably their only kiss, and it would’ve been nice to experience Bruce’s lips. On the other hand, Clark doesn’t think he’d have been able to control his reaction. Bruce would have quickly realized Clark’s true feelings, and then their working relationship in the Justice League would have become awkward. Not only would that happen, but the teasing when Bruce came to The Daily Planet would stop. Clark knows that as hard as the teasing is on him, it’s the only contact like that he’s probably ever getting from the man. All-in-all, it’s best that he’d broken the chair, but he can’t help being disappointed for the missed opportunity.

Looking down at Bruce as he strides along the path the hastily parting crowd has created for him, Clark feels just as pinned by the gaze looking up at him now as he had the other day. Clark breathes a sigh of relief as Bruce’s attention is caught by the cashier. A few more seconds of that gaze and he’d have started having a reaction that would be hard to hide in his Superman costume. Also, his knees are getting a little shaky at the thought of having an actual date with Bruce. With the powerful gaze averted, Clark’s less likely to trip once he moves to get off the stage. It wouldn’t do for Superman to start acting as klutzy as Clark Kent.

In spite of his worry, Clark floats off the dais as the coordinator gestures to him a few moments later. The woman chatters about how much the organization appreciates his willingness to participate, how much good the money he’d brought in is going to do, and several other things that he tries to pay attention to. It’s harder than it should be, as he’s still a little shell-shocked that someone is willing to pay so much for a date with him, more surprising is that it’s Bruce who’s doing it.

He makes all the right sounds to the woman in front of him - he is very good at multi-tasking after all - but most of his mind is consumed by curiosity. He knows that Bruce’s companies, and Bruce himself, have already donated a considerable amount of money to the disaster relief in Haiti. His eyes flit over to Bruce and he watches him as surreptitiously as possible, trying to figure out why Bruce bid on him.

The man looks good. His form-fitting tux makes Clark want to run his hands over the fine fabric and across the broad shoulders. His eyes wandering downward, Clark takes in the strong back and the firm, round ass, before starting down the long, well-developed legs. Clark bites his lip at the enticing picture the man makes even from behind. 

As his gaze returns to the woman still heaping him with praise, Clark knows that as good as Bruce looks, there’s a lot more to his feelings for his friend than simple lust or desire. Bruce is one of…no…the only person who makes him feel like he can let go, as if he doesn’t have to be the person with all the answers, like he doesn’t have to be the one in charge all the time. He trusts Bruce like no other, knows the other man will always have his back.

Even better, he can talk to Bruce. He can tell him the things that went wrong with a rescue and the things he wishes he’d done differently or better. Bruce’s shoulders are more than broad enough to take it, and Clark knows that his friend won’t feel disappointed or let down that ‘The World’s Greatest Superhero’ isn’t perfect, and can be fallible. Bruce is the one person he can truly be himself with; no disguises, no pretending. 

Lost in his thoughts, Clark is startled to feel a hand at his elbow. The tingle that makes is way up his arm tells him who it is even before he speaks. “Ms. Walham, I’m going to have to steal Superman away I’m afraid. I was told by your cashier that my date with him is going to have to be tonight.”

Leading him away, Bruce works his way over to the room’s balcony doors, somehow keeping people from pawing at either of them. Once they reach the doors, Bruce pitches his voice to be heard by several nearby people. “Superman, I’m so excited to have won the date with you. Arriving late, I unfortunately didn’t realize it was for this very night. I’m going to need a few things from my home in Gotham. It would be simply amazing to fly there in your strong arms. Would you mind?”

Playing his role, Clark opens the doors and steps through. “Not at all, Mr. Wayne. That would be a delightful way to start the evening.” 

Holding out his arms, Clark suppresses a shiver when Bruce steps into them. He stifles the urge to smooth his hands down the strong back. “Superman, I think you can call me Bruce, especially since we’re on a date.”

Picking the man up, Clark flexes his toes and rises slowly into the air. “Certainly, Bruce. Whatever you say.”

The flight to Wayne Manor is conducted mostly in silence and, once they are away from the crowd, Bruce drops his public persona and becomes more like The Batman, letting his own true self out. Clark gets the distinct idea that Bruce is mad about something, but flying at these speeds really isn’t conducive to conversation. Nor is it conducive to being warm. Half way there he feels a shiver work through Bruce, and even though the man doesn’t say anything, Clark removes his cape and drapes it around his body.

Having Bruce covered means that he can speed up a little, so he does and they’re touching down in front of the imposing entryway to the manor shortly after. Bruce is instantly out of his arms, but the cape slides off his form more slowly and he holds onto it for just a moment before handing it back to him.

Reaching out to open the door, even Bruce looks a little surprised when Alfred opens it first. “There’s milk and cookies in your study for Superman, and a decanter of your favorite brandy for you, Master Bruce.” The both follow Alfred into the hall. “If you don’t need me for anything else tonight, sir, then I would say goodnight, and wish you both a pleasant evening.”

Bruce waves a hand. “Not at all, Alfred. You find your bed. We have some things to discuss, anyway.”

The clipped way he says that makes Clark tense up a little. Bruce is definitely mad. He follows the man down the long hallway and into his inner sanctum, spinning into his civilian clothes while he’s at it.  Whatever happens tonight, he wants it to be the man, not the superman, it happens to.  

Besides the Batcave below, the room they arrive in is the safest room in the entire manor. It’s soundproofed, bugs are checked for on a regular basis, and everything is reinforced. It’s a room Clark feels completely comfortably being himself in, and he’s fairly sure Bruce feels the same way.

Bruce starts prowling around the room, seeming to gather the few shadows in the room around him as he goes. Clark watches with fascination, a little apprehension, and a healthy dose of arousal. The scowl on the other man’s face sends tingles down his spine. When he suddenly stops, shooting a broody look his way, Clark bites his bottom lip nervously, and then decides to take the bull by the horns. “Bruce, what’s wrong? Are you regretting bidding so much? I still can’t believe you paid such a large sum for one date.”

Stopping, Bruce turns towards him. “What? No, I’d have gone higher if it was necessary. You’re worth much more than money to me and the Haitians need it far more than I do.” Tucking his hands into his pockets, he rocks back on the balls of his feet. In spite of his relaxed pose, Clark can’t help feeling that the other man is getting ready to pounce. “I just can’t help wondering why, when you’ve turned down so many of my invitations for a date, you were so willing to go out with a total stranger. You didn’t even tell me about it, so I could have the option to bid. If Bart hadn’t happened to say something while we were in the Watchtower, I wouldn’t have known until after it was over.”

“I…Bruce…” Clark feels a little lost. He hadn’t expected anything like this at all. Certainly not the hurt he could hear below the anger. It almost sounds like Bruce is saying that he’d been serious about all of those dates he’d asked Clark on. “It was for charity, that’s the only reason I did it. I didn’t tell you because I never thought you were actually serious about asking me on a date. Besides, the last time I saw you was…a little…hard on the ego, and I’d only just decided to do it, at that point.”

Bruce strides straight into his personal space, grasps his chin, and uses his powerful grip to tilt Clark’s head down slightly so their eyes are forced to meet. Clark works to repress a shiver at the touch, but doesn’t think he’s completely successful when he sees Bruce’s nostrils flare. “What makes you think that I wasn’t being completely serious when I asked you out?”

The hold on his chin is so firm, that Clark would have to wrench his head away to get free. Since he isn’t willing to hurt Bruce, and Bruce knew exactly what he’d been doing when he latched on, Clark is well and truly stuck. “I…I just didn’t think there was any way for Bruce Wayne to be interested in Clark Kent. I figured you were just playing your playboy role and…mmmph.”

Bruce’s mouth descending onto his has Clark freezing in shock before he melts under the assault. Lips coaxed open by Bruce’s tongue, Clark tilts his head to a better angle to allow for a deeper intrusion. He can’t believe this is happening. He’d known this is how Bruce’s kisses would be – commanding, no holds barred, overwhelming. Clark moans when the other man starts sucking on his tongue.

At the sound, Bruce’s hand tightens where it had fallen to his hip and he increases the suction on Clark’s tongue. His other hand slides into Clark’s hair, and he uses enough strength to twist and turn Clark’s head to his satisfaction.  Clark knows that the hold would be very painful to anyone else.

When he feels teeth nibbling at the tip of his tongue, Clark whimpers and presses a little closer to the hard muscled body that’s almost flush against him. Clark doesn’t think he’s ever been held by anyone this close to him in size. They fit together so well, in so many ways. He notes that he was right about how they’d line up when pressed together, and he moans when their erections rub against each other. If his brain was still firing on all thrusters, he might wonder why he hadn’t acted on how he feels about Bruce long ago.

The hand in his hair gentling, Clark hums in pleasure when it starts stroking instead. He presses closer to Bruce and feels the other man’s free arm wrap around him in a tight squeeze. Clark brings his own arms up and caresses sensitive fingertips up and down Bruce’s back. He can feel the ridges of scar tissue in several places through the layers of clothing, but he doesn’t linger. He knows Bruce is self-conscious about them, not that he’d ever admit it, but to Clark the scars are evidence of the kind of man Bruce is and they are badges of honor.

Bruce’s tongue stops mating with his and instead starts mapping the interior of his mouth. Clark shivers as the tongue ghosts over the sensitive upper ridge of his mouth, and Bruce’s arm tightens around him a little more.

Just as suddenly as the kiss had begun, it ends, with Clark breathing as hard as he did in his fights with Draaga on Warworld, only for much pleasanter reasons. Clearing his throat, he looks at Bruce with luminous eyes. “So, I guess you’re trying to tell me I was wrong about why you wanted to date me.”

Clark had meant it as a joke, but Bruce growls at him; the sound sending another shiver down his spine. “Jesus, Clark! Only you could think that I didn’t want you after all of those invitations.”

Twisting them both around, Bruce starts walking, guiding Clark who’s moving backwards, until the back of Clark’s knees hit the sofa. Falling into it, he’s surprised, although happily so, when Bruce straddles his lap and kneels above him.

Loosening his tie, Bruce next gets to work on the buttons of Clark’s shirt. “I think I’m going to show you just how serious I was when I was inviting you out.”

Biting his lip, Clark is torn. He doesn’t want to say anything to stop this, but morally it’s the right thing to do. Sighing, he puts out a hand to grasp Bruce’s just as the two halves of his shirt part. “Wait, Bruce. You paid a lot of money for a date with me tonight. We should…we should do that instead.”

Bending a little, Bruce latches onto to a patch of skin at the juncture of Clark’s neck and shoulder and bites down hard before straightening up. Clark is left gasping as Bruce nonchalantly drags his hand out from under Clark’s loosened hold and begins to unbutton his own shirt. “Had you made plans for your special evening?”

A little dazed by the sudden bite and distracted by the skin being revealed right in front of him, Clark doesn’t respond at first. Instead, his eyes glaze over at the bronze expanse of Bruce’s chest. He wants to lean forward and lick, to suck on a nipple, to nibble around the scar left by a bullet, to drag his tongue down and pay homage to… 

Bruce saying his name sharply brings him out of his haze and Clark is reminded of the man’s question. Slowly, he shakes his head. “No. I was going to let whomever won pick someplace they wanted me to fly them to and start off with a dinner somewhere in the world, then they were going to be allowed two more choices of places to go.”

Finishing with the fastenings of his shirt, Bruce let it hang loose, lips quirking up just a little as Clark’s eyes begin roaming all over his chest again. “I already had my dinner before I rushed over to the charity auction, so for my final two choices of places to be, I’d say this couch and my bed. Do those sound alright to you?”

Clark swallows hard and moans as thoughts and fantasies flit through his mind. Thankfully, Bruce takes it as the assent it obviously is and Clark closes his eyes as Bruce leans closer.


End file.
